


Target Practice

by allthebeautifulthings9828



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel, Bunker Fic, Dominant/Top Dean, Explicit Sexual Content, Fallen Castiel, Guns, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel, Kissing, Love, M/M, One Shot, One True Pairing, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Episode: s08e23 Sacrifice, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Tension, Submissive/Bottom Castiel, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthebeautifulthings9828/pseuds/allthebeautifulthings9828
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean decides Castiel needs to learn to properly handle guns now that he's human. He takes him to the shooting gallery in the bunker, but he doesn't anticipate things escalating so quickly. Watching Castiel handle his guns is an unexpected turn on for Dean, who has to have him right then and there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Target Practice

"For one of God’s warriors, you’re sure clueless about guns," Dean said after Castiel nearly clocked himself in the face with the kickback of a rifle. He traded it for a handgun. “Here. Try this one instead."

Castiel tossed a wounded glance at Dean as he took aim. “I was an officer, Dean. I commanded my company. They used the weaponry on my orders."

"Wait, don’t shoot. Square your shoulders like this." The shooting gallery felt rather snug as Dean stood behind Castiel and gripped his upper arms. He smirked as he positioned the former angel. Hands lingered a little too long against his spine and then rested on his hips. “Loosen your legs. Don’t be so stiff down here. Good."

"Dean, I think I can handle a handgun." Castiel threw another glance over his shoulder. Suspicion shaded his blue eyes and a hint of playfulness tugged at his lips, though he clearly wanted to appear so indifferent to Dean’s roaming hands.

The protest went ignored. Dean skimmed his hands up the curve of Castiel's spine, over his shoulders, and over the length of his arms as far as he could reach. He leaned close to his lover’s ear, sizing up the target thirty feet away.

"Keep your arms tight. Your spine stiff," he whispered. “Support your dominant hand with this one around the gun. Line up the target. It’s yours, straight ahead. You’re the one in control here." Dean wanted to feel it. He pressed flush against the back of Castiel's body and gripped him loosely around the waist. “With your finger on the trigger, it’s all yours. You’re the only one who can decide when it goes off. Don’t squeeze or it’ll jerk too much. Fire."

The blast reverberated through Castiel's body and rippled into Dean like a shockwave. He shut his eyes and tightened his arms around Castiel, feeling every last nanosecond of it.

"Awesome," Dean said breathlessly.

When his eyes focused again, they settled on the clean hole straight to the center of the target at the end of the shooting gallery. His intimate form of teaching succeeded. Bracing their bodies together, making them one, steadied Castiel's aim until he learned to shoot with the expertise of a professional. Dean’s lips curled back in a prideful smile.

Turning to Castiel's other ear, chin resting on his shoulder, he pressed a kiss to his neck. “Again," he murmured.

"Are these standard teaching practices, Dean?" He turned slightly but never pulled away. “Do you think a shooting range instructor would behave this way?"

"If they did, I’d have to kick some ass," replied the hunter with a possessive, husky tone. “Shoot again for me."

The former angel lifted his newly human arms again. Eyes narrowed over the target as blue as they were focused. Dean silently enjoyed the view of his sleeves pulling tightly against the shape of his biceps. Although not as big as Dean, he was strong and held his own in a fight. Learning to shoot so quickly with such a coolness in his concentration brought the attraction to a new place. Dean breathed the faint scent of soap in the bend of Castiel's neck and closed his eyes, wanting to feel the shock of the gunshot again. It thrilled him. That new power in his lover felt dangerously addictive.

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

Three rapid shots emptied from the muzzle. Each jolt slammed Castiel into the millimeters separating him from Dean, nearly like the rhythm of making love. Sharp, cool basement air in the bunker filled his lungs. A low growl slipped passed his lips against Castiel's ear and one of his hands strayed along his hip bone.

To the student’s credit, he never broke concentration, which drove Dean even more crazy. He watched Castiel pop out the empty magazine and slam a new one into the handle of the gun as if he’d been doing it for years. The unexpected arousal brought with watching him shoot took the hunter by surprise, but it possessed him like everything else about their new relationship possessed him. Then again, it wasn't all that new. It evolved over years until they couldn't live without each other anymore. But Dean couldn't muster enough clear thoughts to analyze their relationship. Not while Castiel cared for one of his guns, one of his babies, with hands that knew exactly how to touch him to make him lose control.

Dean couldn't help himself. His hand slipped under Castiel's shirt, fingertips tracing lazy lines around his bare abdomen. Goosebumps rose on his flesh but he never deviated from annihilating the paper target. Not a sound. Not a shifted breath.

_Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom._

Rapid fire ripped apart the the bulls eye. Only one shot missed the target. Castiel's shoulders relaxed and the gun drooped as he studied his work with a satisfied little smile, utterly ignoring Dean’s fingertips circling his abdomen. If he intended to dissuade the hunter, shooting like that only intensified his growing need. Each gunshot felt as wickedly delicious as each of Castiel's measured, controlled thrusts when they were in bed.

"I thought you wanted me to learn to shoot," said Castiel.

"I do." He wasn't lying but his mouth hungrily nipped at Castiel's neck. “Take a break." Yes, that sounded appetizing, he decided, as his hand dropped from his lover’s flat abdomen to the bulge in his jeans.

The intimate touch weakened Castiel's legs just enough that he slumped against the table. Dean took the gun from him and put on the safety, just in case. He spun Castiel in his arms, pressing him against that table with a possessive kiss bordering on starvation. As much as he knew this mortal man missed being an angel, he couldn't help the pride swelling his chest at how quickly he adapted to human life. And he didn't know he could feel so intensely for another person. Yet there he was, kissing Castiel like it was the first time, every time.

As Dean tugged Castiel's shirt up and over his head, the former angel tilted his head. “Upstairs?"

"No. Here," Dean said dryly. To drive the point home, he pulled Castiel into a punishing kiss and ground their pelvises together.

"What about Sam?" he whispered between wet passes of their mouths.

“I don’t care. I need you, Cas," Dean replied, his own whisper straining against the urge to rip clothes apart.

The hunter had never been the sort of man to worship anything, but every time he kisses Castiel, it felt so intimate and hopeful like a thousand little prayers between them. Drifting from his swollen, bitten lips, Dean kissed a path around his jaw and along the length of his throat. Prickling stubble gave way to tender skin that rose in chills with each brush of his own sensitive lips. Castiel's fingers dug into Dean’s back with each of his most tender spots licked and kissed into hypersensitivity. Yes, Dean knew all of his weaknesses. He knew how to draw out those moments or how to send him crashing into sudden bursts of pleasure. Only Dean knew those secrets and he lapped at them.

Clothes peeled away, layer by layer, but Dean's desire to possess that beautiful creature clouded his focus. Only Castiel's hasty grasp around his achingly hard cock grounded him in sudden reality. His world centered on that sensation of thorough pumping, the fist closing rhythmically over the head and down again. Dean groaned into Castiel's shoulder and bit the muscular flesh, overcome by physical touch. He blindly groped around Castiel's hips until he found his cock standing tall and ready as well. In seconds, without uttering a word, they matched each other's quickening paces. Hips rolled and bucked into each other's hands and muffled moans absorbed into necks and shoulders.

"Wait," rasped Dean before it all sped away from him.

He searched his jeans on the floor for a small emergency bottle of lube. One of them always carried something. Hunters often on the road never knew where the opportunity might strike. They swore to always live for today and not think about tomorrow.

Dean knew what he wanted. He propelled Castiel around and latched around him from behind just the way he had when they were shooting. This time, though, they stood stark naked and hard enough that it wouldn't take much to make them both come all over the shooting gallery's booth.

"Over the table," he instructed, all business.

With his hands planted on the table, Castiel obeyed with perfect trust so rarely seen among even the closest lovers. He didn't even look back as Dean coated lube over his own cock with long, torturous strokes, and then drew circles around Castiel's hole. It required all of his restraint not to take him roughly right then and there. Only the thought of causing him unnecessary pain reeled in the raw desire. He pushed a slippery finger into Castiel as gently as he could, thinking maybe he needed time to stretch, but the former angel bit his lip and pushed back against Dean's hand. He wanted Dean as much as Dean wanted him. A second finger, scissoring motions, and brushing the sensitive bundle of nerves soon had Castiel moaning and rocking against Dean. Then the third finger worked him into fits.

"Dean, please..." begged Castiel in unintelligible breaths.

The hunter leaned against Castiel and sucked his earlobe into his mouth, and then whispered, "Tell me you want me."

Without hesitation, he said, "I want you, Dean," in his lowest voice.

Dean couldn't wait anymore either, and he lined his hips up against Castiel's, replacing his fingers with his cock. A hissing growl lifted from his lover's mouth with both the pleasure and the burning of being stretched so wide.

"Yeah," Dean appealed, eyes hooded with pleasure. His teeth pulled on his lower lip as he watched his hips piston against Castiel, who pushed back with just as much force. " _Mmm_ , Cas."

He tilted forward, chest to spine, and pinned Castiel's hands to the table with his own. A light sheen of sweat rubbed between their bodies as Dean rode him closer and closer to the abyss. Tense heat slowly coiled in his gut and he felt himself throbbing with every thrust, nearly unable to stop the avalanche now. His fingers laced between Castiel's and he squeezed painfully tight as if trying to keep his senses rooted in the earth. It was entirely too easy to get lost in loving this beautiful creature.

Castiel rutting against him lit the first sparks. He let go of one of his hands long enough to reach around and take hold of his cock. Quick, self-assured flicks of Dean's wrist and strong fingers twisting over the head brought trembling to Castiel's limbs.

"Oh, Dean..." The former angel's voice soared higher into a tone of the last desperate seconds before plummeting off the cliff. " _Dean_..."

"Yeah, you like that, huh?" growled the hunter.

A thick, warm spurt of white coated Dean's hand and shot to the floor as Castiel's orgasm rocked him into the table. A box of bullets knocked over and dozens of them rolled onto the floor, but it barely occurred to either of them. Castiel shook and cried out, riding the final waves.

Dean tried to hold himself back. He wanted to watch his new human lover dissolve into a mess of raw nerves each time he brought him to orgasm. No one ever shared that experience with Castiel or saw his new human soul so exposed. Sometimes Dean swore he saw the bright white glow filtering through his chest. It had to be his soul discovering the few joys of humanity that Dean could give him.

No longer able to draw out the moment, Dean's hips stuttered as the sparks exploded. Fire ripped through his body and his head flung back, heart-shaped lips hanging open with the paralyzing waves knocking him into Castiel. He memorized the sensation of Castiel's body milking his cock dry, filling him with come until he thought he might fall apart at the seams. Sex with anyone else would never measure up to Castiel and each time they were together reminded him of that fact.

"Shit, Cas," he panted, trembling too, and leaning to the side on the table. "We need to take you shooting more often."

Wearily, Castiel laughed as he turned and rested his back against the shooting gallery's booth wall. He laughed unsteadily but still such a new habit that it took Dean off-guard. Neither of them stood steadily but Dean laced his hand through Castiel's fingers absently resting on the table. His eyes drifted over the haphazardly scattered clothes, bullets, and thankfully, the guns safely off to the side.

"We made a friggin mess," he chuckled.

Castiel's eyes crinkled with his smile. "Perhaps upstairs would have been a better place."

"No." Standing upright, Dean snaked his arms around his lover's waist as they rested against the wall. "I wasted years thinking it was wrong to feel this way about you. Hunters - you know, we don't get long apple pie lives. We're not gonna waste any more time with what ifs or guilt or any of the other bullshit piled on us. You got it?"

"Yes."

A peculiar sigh of relief puffed from Castiel's lips but Dean decided not to question it. They knew each other without explanations. Castiel touched his forehead to Dean's, armed loosely wrapped around each other. Comforting silence enveloped them.

Dean?" Castiel said eventually.

"Hmm?"

"I want to try the shotgun again tomorrow."

The hunter smiled. "You got it."


End file.
